


A Bright Spot in the Wash

by Simply8Steps



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: (a summary), As Fluffy as it Gets Post-Apocalypse, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Kara "Starbuck" Thrace & Lee "Apollo" Adama - Freeform, Wonder!Twins Remind the Parents that They Can Still be Children, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 02:11:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11026431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simply8Steps/pseuds/Simply8Steps
Summary: A little holiday cheer and silliness does everyone good.





	A Bright Spot in the Wash

**Author's Note:**

> Written originally for the Secret Santa exchange over at the AR LJ Community. Posted on 12/26/2008 for theastolat.

Kara was ready.

There was no time for second thoughts, no doubts… just time to _be_ ready, completely ready for the task she had taken upon herself. Earth had shown everyone that. Life can’t be spent waiting for hope to fulfill what you want providentially. If you want something done, do it yourself.

Her fist tightened around the pair of sharp scissors.

It was just around the corner, the wardroom. She could get it done with. Her steps slowed to a more cautious pace, and she tried to listen to the approaching voices but instead found herself focusing on calming her breaths and the pounding of her heart.

_There!_ She pounced out and into the adjoining hallway brandishing the scissors like a promise only to find the rifles of the Presidential marine detail pointed in her face. _Oh._ Several shocked faces (including her target’s) stared back at her. Roslin was the first to recover however, and as her face smoothed back over again, an amused glint entered her eye.

“What the frak were you thinking Kara?”

“I was hoping to tame your frakking hair _Leland_. It would have made a wonderful Midwinter’s Solstice present.”

Lee’s face returned to its state of shock, and Kara could swear that she heard a quickly smothered giggle from the direction of the still stoic President.

A quick “what” was spluttered out before Kara tried to continue her approach as she watched the decision process cover his face. He could scamper off, but that would have hardly been fitting for the dignity with which the Caprican delegate should act. Otherwise, he could stay where he was and test Kara’s persistence, which would mean that his hair was doomed.

 Luckily for him though, and he sent a thankful look in the President’s direction, a hand grasped Kara’s arm. “Captain Thrace, as much as I can understand your… sentiment. I cannot allow you to run around Galactica with a sharp object in your hands outside a battle situation chasing one of my delegates.”

Kara huffed out a grouchy “fine, lucky mommy’s boy” and handed the scissors over, but before Roslin took them from her hand she reached over to whisper into Kara’s ear.

“Try using glue or gum in his hair.”

Kara grinned. “Thanks.”

“I do my best Thrace.”

 

* * *

 

Bill walked into his quarters later to see in the seat, where he would normally see the hunched over figure of a furiously working President, a pair of bare-foot, precariously balanced, stocking-covered legs instead. 

“What are you doing?”

A grunt was his only response, so he wandered closer to see Laura straining to hang something on the top shelf behind his desk. He had to admit that he was even more fascinated by the view than by any thought as to what she might be doing anymore.

“There.”

His thoughts stepped back from the edge as she moved to step off of his desk chair, and he quickly offered a hand. Smiling as she attempted to clean up the mess she made of his desk, he realized for the first time that it had been covered with little scraps of paper that was now being carefully collected into a small bin for recycling. A pair of scissors that he had never seen before was carefully placed atop a pile of, from his quick scan over, scrap paper.

“Did you finally get sick of the reports and did what I was suggesting for years? Just cut it up and pretend you read it?”

Laura turned with a chuckle and placed a small kiss on his chin before returning to her attempts at organizing the numerous and endless files.

“No, but one Kara Thrace reminded me that the Midwinter’s Solstice would be arriving soon if we were still in the colonies.”

He glanced up now to see the delicate white snowflake that she had apparently made and hung up. Little printed text covered different parts of the right half. His eyebrow went up. “I didn’t know that you liked the Midwinter celebrations that much. Now you seem almost giddy.”

“I’ve been a bit too preoccupied to properly celebrate though I guess that’s as good an excuse as any. I’ve really had little reason to celebrate, but now,” she swiveled to face him, “I find that it’s at the end of the worlds and life that I’ve finally found myself living.” She giggled as his lips brushed across the tip of her nose. “Now, if you would excuse me though, I need to get to the children’s childcare center on the Halcyon.” She quickly collected the supplies and made her exit while Bill was left smiling softly behind her.

“A reason huh?” His gaze locked onto the snowflake.

 

* * *

 

Laura returned later to a darkened and quiet room, not normally a curiosity in itself, but something was odd about this tense peace. It was as if…

Any further thought was loss in the ensuing rush as an arm wrapped around her waist while a splat of cold (there was no other way to describe it) simultaneously landed at the back of her neck. Instinct yelled at her to flail and cry out, but she forced herself to still instead, absorbing the situation and the panic.

“Not going to struggle Madame President?”

“Bill, did you just toss something cold and wet at me?”

He nuzzled the wet spot at her neck. “It’s snow. We do have _that_ in abundance with the nuclear winter on Earth. Two-thirds of the northern hemisphere is a complete frozen wasteland. A tundra with who knows how many tons of ice and snow.”

“And you went down to the surface to collect a handful of this snow to throw at me? How romantic.”

“No,” he smirked, “I ordered people from down on the surface to send up a _bucket_ of snow.”

“And it hasn’t melted yet?”

“It’s in a self-cooling unit.”

“A modified bucket.”

“Yes.”

“Admiral, do I have access to said bucket?”

“Of course, it’s right here.”

She reached in and wondered at the feel of snow again. Lifting a handful, she began shaping it into a small compact ball even while Bill began slowly backing towards the hatch.

“Admiral, I’m surprised by your suspicions and cowardice,” with a smooth motion, the tossed snowball landed right in his face, “and your lack of tactical planning. Wandering _away_ from a weapons arsenal? That is very foolish.”

Bill wiped his face. “You underestimate me Madame President. A military officer should never allow all of his, or her, resources to gather in a single, vulnerable location open to the enemy for access.” He reached for another container that had been hidden in the dark ‘til then.

The marine outside kept their expressions as still as possible even as they listened to the squeals and laughter and small grunts emitted by the occupants of the Admiral’s quarters. _Children._

 

 

_**Fine.** _


End file.
